Skippy’s Love For American Idol

Confession time. Mookie and I always said that if we started this little experiment we would be brutally honest and hold nothing back. So, here goes. I’m an American Idol fanatic. Love it, love it, love it. I love it for all the wrong reasons and I don’t care who knows it. And this being Tuesday, I can hardly contain myself at work knowing that in just 10 short hours, I will once again bask in the glow of my Idols.
First off, the judges. In geographical order. Randy. Can’t quite figure the Randy-Dawg out. He seems like such a dork – but he plays the bass and was in the band Journey for like a minute which automatically gives him certain cred that makes one overlook many of his dorkier faults. He has way too much cheap jewelry up and down his arm and he desperately wants one of his lame-o catch-phrases to take off so he can make a fortune selling t-shirts. Clearly, somebody DARED to call his comments predictable at the end of last season, because he’s going out of his way to be edgy and lean negative this year. I think Randy enjoys the paycheck and wants to ride the AI for precisely however long he can keep milking it. I never see any celeb gossip about my Randy – so extra credit is given for keeping his nose clean in the Cali sunshine.

Paula is a train wreck and I just love her. I don’t know exactly what is wrong with her. If you believe her story that she ain’t on drugs – then I think you HAVE to come to the conclusion that she’s a combination of strung out tired from running around being a celebrity all the time mixed with a healthy dose of just being a dummy. But she’s cute and dopey and lovable. She’s gone from only handing out super-positive feedback to giving out feedback that pertains to absolutely nothing. Even the most horrific butchering of a classic song might just as well be met with Paula feedback about your pretty shoes. Ay yi yi – she’s from another planet. Planet Awesome!

Simon. Another enigma. Caught up in his own stink. I think he’s probably an evil genius behind the scenes and he amps up the cranky for TV. Seriously, if I could just adopt the jeans and grey t-shirt and wear it every single day, I would. Who wouldn’t? No fuss. No muss. You know that Simon is calling the shots when he isn’t sifting through piles of cash. Here’s a theory – perhaps he’s slipping Paula whatever goofballs are keeping her in La La Land during the show to make it interesting while controlling Randy’s behavior with some lurid backstage photos of Randy and Steve Perry in a compromising position. It could happen. It would explain a lot, no?

Seacrest. What can I say about the Seacrest? Seacrest-buddy has had to earn it from me. I downright loathed him for the first 4 seasons. Dunkleman – anybody remember him? He was the co-host with Seacrest the first season. Letsee, Seacrest is pulling down about 12 mill this season – Dunkleman is lucky to get a supporting role in a dog food commercial at this point. Dunkleman is the most bitter man in Hollywood, my friends. But back to Seacrest. As I said, I didn’t care for the Seacrest for a long time. But as the show has run on and we’ve seen weeks where Simon can’t focus and Paula’s head is spinning around while she projectile vomits pea soup and contestants cry and turn into puddles of goo on the stage – my man Seacrest is a rock. He’s always ready with an aside to the camera, a nod, a gesture, a summary. In short, the Seacrest is THE MAN. He’s the hardest working man in show business piloting Idol, every red carpet show on the planet, hosting awards shows, a daily radio show – heck, I think he slaps on make-up and works making balloon animals at children’s birthday parties on the weekend! I loves me the Seacrest! Rockin’ the faux-hawk and the spiffy suit!

Now contestants. I couldn’t care less about these people. About the only contestant I ever was truly impressed with was Taylor Hicks last season. He broke the mold – he was a dark horse the whole way. I bought his EP – I bought his album. They’re OK. I even went to go see him in concert last summer. Entertaining. But, by and large – he’s a bust. For me, all the others are a big fat “So What”. I just don’t care for them. This season – of those that are left – I prefer David Cooke, just don’t like Syesha – but your golden boy is definitely Archuleta. I really thought Carly was going to hang in there longer – couple of bad song choices sank Ol’ Lucky Charms. Too bad. All the stories about Archuleta’s dad being a nightmare backstage are interesting. Once he wins and starts his career, it’ll be entertaining to follow the shenanigans of his DUIDad. And they are trying WAY too hard to pretend that kid ain’t gay. I’m sorry, bringing all those little girls outta the audience week after week and all that business about him missing his prom and all the girls he disappointed – come on. Even the weakest of gay-dars drops to def-con 4 when he hits the stage. Poor kid. His life will be absolutely ruined by AI success and THAT’S why I’m tuning in!!!

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1 Comment

Filed under Skippy's Thoughts

One response to “Skippy’s Love For American Idol

  1. Know how I know you’re gay? ‘Cause you like American Idol.

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